


Taking Chances

by Chaosreigning



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: M/M, batfam mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:59:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaosreigning/pseuds/Chaosreigning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chances were good things. Great things, actually – if you never took any chances, you weren’t really alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Since the DCU Fic Hunt for 2013 is well under way, I figured I should get my entry from the 2012 round posted before this year's crop of fics get released. So here's my entry, written for quipquipquip (and yes, it was nerve-wracking to be assigned such an incredible writer).

When Dick was nine and new enough to being Robin that he was still more than a little in love with the theatricality of his new costume and undecided on just how much he hated the cape for getting in the way (it took six months before he settled on “a lot, but it comes in handy sometimes so I guess I’ll keep it. Thanks for asking, Alfred.”), he got to meet Superman. Superman was quite possibly the nicest person in the existence of ever, had a terrific laugh, one hell of a punch, and not only did he let Dick use him as a human jungle-gym, but he also took Dick flying.

Dick had spent the next two consecutive years wearing Superman pajamas nearly every night despite knowing full well that Bruce hated them with the sort of burning obsession he usually reserved for crime-fighting. Not that Bruce ever admitted as much, but Dick had it on Alfred-authority that the day Dick finally retired them, Bruce had taken them from the to-charity pile, given Alfred money to buy a new set of non-Superman PJs to replace them, and then very cheerfully burned them to ash down in the Cave. Which, you know, was fair. He’d had two years’ worth of frustration to get out; burning them was hardly the worst he could have done. Also, venting his frustration out on the old set was probably the only reason Bruce hadn’t totally flipped when Dick had turned up in soft sleep pants and a brand-new, oversized sleep-shirt with the S-shield emblazoned bright and cheerful over the chest.

It had been pretty obvious he hated it just as much as – if not more than – he’d hated the pajama set, and there was nothing he could do about it. It had been great; the pinched, I’m-going-to-punch-someone-with-kryptonite-ring look Bruce had tried to hide was still one of Dick’s top ten favorites. Not that he made a habit of trolling his mentor. He was more mature than that, really.

Anyway, that wasn’t the point, though. The point was, Dick had been really, really nervous about meeting Superman at first. He’d been so close to hiding under Batman’s cape the entire time to avoid the whole thing. Bruce totally would’ve let him, too. But in the end, Dick had decided to stick it out and take the chance, big-time vigilante that he was, and it had paid off. Asking Babs out for the first time had been like that, too; Dick had been absolutely sure she was going to knee him in the balls before he’d even finished saying the words. The chances he’d taken with his first Nightwing costume had been much less successful, given that he was still regularly teased about his Discowing years, but hey. Couldn’t win ‘em all.

Chances were good things. Great things, actually – if you never took any chances, you weren’t really alive. Not taking any meant missing things like friendships with alien-god-boy-scouts, relationships with gorgeous, BAMF redheads, and Batman’s face when all three of his sons still in the house trooped into the cave wearing t-shirts with the other JLA members’ emblems on them (Dick had to finally give up the S-shield in order to get Damian to cooperate, but it had been worth it, especially after Alfred came down with a tea towel embroidered with a Green Arrow logo).

Dick had taken a lot of chances over the years, good and bad, and frankly, there was no real reason the prospect of this one should be so intimidating. Sure, Jason was more likely go for the throat than the groin, but – They were getting along a lot better lately. The attack probably wouldn’t be fatal.

Probably.

He made a face. Maaan.

…Alright. He was going to do it. He was going to knock on Jason’s door, give him a grin, and – Okay, he totally couldn’t do it. Dick’s shoulders slumped. This was so not something he was used to, but he really didn’t want to ruin the relationship he and Jason were finally starting to rebuild. He could wait a little longer to ask Jason out, right? Just until thing were less shaky. Right. He could do that.

Dick took a step back and squeaked as the door flew open, Jason glaring at him from the other side.

“Will you stop staring at my fucking front door?” the younger man snarled, clearly irritated. His eyes narrowed, an odd look flickering across his face. “…Did you just squeak?”

“Uh.” Dick blinked. “No? ‘Course not. Ha ha ha.”

Oh, geez. Like that was going to fool anyone. Maybe Jason would be nice about it?

“You really suck at lying,” Jason pointed out, blunt and merciless. Dick heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I was kind of hoping you’d just ignore it, though. Cut me a break and all that.”

Jason scoffed, which – Yeah, Dick hadn’t thought so. Oh, well. Hope springs eternal and all that. There were a few moments of silence, and then Jason growled again. “Are you going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here or not, Dickhead? If you’re just here to waste my time, I WILL kick your ass, hand to god.”

Dick opened his mouth to tell Jason… Something. Anything. A walk to the park, patrolling together, an invite to go get chilidogs; come on, Grayson, SOMETHING!

Nothing was coming out. He wasn’t even breathing. And Jason’s expression was darkening.

So on impulse, Dick threw his arms around Jason’s neck, pulled the taller man down, and kissed him.

Hm, Dick mused distantly as Jason made a startled, choking sort of noise against his mouth. That had not been the kind of something he’d meant.

It wasn’t bad, though. As one of Jason’s arms wrapped firmly around his waist, pulling Dick in tight as he took over control of their mouths, the acrobat gave a pleased hum.

Score another point for taking chances.

“Hey, Jay… Wanna see how flexible I can be?”


End file.
